Truth: Learning.

Earlier this morning I finished my exam for World Religions and am officially finished with my third semester of seminary.  It was a difficult semester, to say the least, filled with stress, lack of sleep, approximately 7 pounds of coffee (pre-brewed), some poor food choices, internal (and external) debates, and plenty of tears.  Here’s what I learned:

I learned how money – and the lack thereof – can affect my life.  Through a series of unfortunate events, my student loans weren’t disbursed until mid-November.  While I was able to take a small advance on it, by the grace of God I was able to make it without.  I had my family and my church, who stepped in and helped me out when I needed it most.  I’m not out of the woods yet, but I have learned (again) to lean on God and trust that things will work out.  It’s difficult, stressful, and scary, but it will happen.

I’ve learned that Christian ethics is not so cut-and-dry.  While it may seem like the Christian answer is the right answer, why it is the right answer is much more difficult to verbalize.  It’s certainly easy to say It’s what Jesus would do, but why would he do it?  What compels that response?  What are the outcomes of such a response?  Is it the only answer, or are there others?  What if that answer harms others in the process?  It’s a difficult and challenging mindset when dealing with real-world issues.

I’ve learned that preaching is both one of my greatest joys and one of my greatest fears.  I love being able to share the word with others in that venue and it always challenges me to be my very best.  But it also scares the tar out of me!  There’s nothing more frightening than standing in front of a group of people, sharing personal stories, theology, and what the Spirit has placed in my hands, all the while attempting to make it sound pleasing.  It’s something I need to work on and it has exposed some of my weaknesses, but it’s an area where I know I’ll grow.

I’ve learned that the world’s religions are unique, impressive, and complicated.  It’s not so easy to explain the differences between Judaism, Buddhism, and Hinduism without having a lot of knowledge in all three religions.  While I know that my Christian beliefs don’t always make a lot of sense, it’s encouraging to know that every other religion is just as rich and complex.  There is beauty in all of them, there are places where we can find similarities, and we need to talk with one another more in order to drive out fear.

I’ve learned that I need to approach the bible with an open mind because there’s a lot that we don’t know. In my Mark exegesis course I was challenged by my professor who used ‘creative imagination’ in his work.  I appreciated learning this technique and how it can be a springboard to other ideas, but I also learned that I need to be careful with my imagination.  While the text has some holes that we can fill in, we need to be careful with what we’re using as filler.

Seminary is certainly one of the most challenging things I’ve been called toward, but it’s been worth it all.  I know I’m where I need to be, and I know that God is preparing me for something greater than I can imagine – the difficulties are temporary, but the reward is lasting.  May we learn more and more each day about our Creator, about one another, and about ourselves.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Like, Agape.

Apologies up front: I’m sorry this week’s post is short, but I have a ton of papers to write for school.  Maybe next week will be better…

I’m wrestling with what it means to love someone, specifically the agape love which extends to all people, whether family members or distant strangers.  But there’s a contradiction in my delivery. On one hand it’s really easy – I can love everyone around me without question, without reason, without expectation. On the other hand it’s really difficult – I can’t love everyone around me, all the time, without reason.

I fall headlong into agape because I’m called to do so – I believe God desires this from us in this world. We’re called to love the poor, the migrant, the queer; the rich, the patriot, the white; the happy, the injured, the vile.  It’s entirely possible to do this, and I’ve witnessed people who can do it without question.

But I also fall out of agape because I’m human and petty.  I mean, do I really have to love the smelly, the bothersome, the ugly?  Do I have to love the people I don’t get along with, the people I don’t agree with, the people who annoy the hell out of me?  Do I have to love chaotic middle school youth and snotty-Kleenex carrying old people?

As someone who frequently uses the phrase “I don’t have to like them, but I have to love them”, I find myself at an impasse.  Am I truly, completely loving the people I don’t like?  Am I doing as Jesus did those many years ago?  Am I seeing Jesus in the face of these people I love but don’t like? Could I do that to Jesus?  If I can’t love them and like them, should I love at all?

Perhaps this is the point of it all – I can’t do it alone.  I can’t possibly love the people I don’t like without God’s help.  I can’t possibly love the people I do like without God’s help.  Love is difficult – agape, pragma, or philia –it’s all challenging and frustrating at times, and entirely impossible without the help from my Creator.

God help us all to love as you have loved, forgive us when we fail, and give us mounds of grace as we try to figure it all out.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Belonging

The legendary coach of the Green Bay Packers, Vince Lombardi, became accustomed to fans seeking his autograph.  One day while eating at a public restaurant,he spotted a kid approaching his table.  Lombardi grabbed a menu and quickly scribbled his name.  When the kid got to Lombardi’s table, the coach handed him the autographed menu.  The youngster said, “I don’t need a menu. I just need to borrow your ketchup.”

Sometimes it’s good to be known and to have a place in this world; it feels good to be recognized.  On this Truth Tuesday I must admit that sometimes I don’t feel like I fit in – when I’m at the gym, or in a committee meeting full of professors, or when I read the Bible.  I don’t always connect to the words in this book or find where I fit in the passages.  It can be discouraging to read story after story and not be able to relate to any of it.  And this, coming from a male perspective, is eye-opening!  If I can’t always relate to the text, I can only imagine the discouragement that women, African-Americans, Hispanics, LGBTQ,or any non-white-males may feel when they read the Bible.

What if, as we read the Bible, we were able to finally see ourselves within the story?  What impact would that have in the way we read the Bible and the way we live our lives?  As we read the following passage, I invite you to do just that: have open ears and open hearts, and take a moment to find our place in the story. 

I’m going to be sharing the text from a very different translation – it’s called “Young’s Literal Translation” by 19th century author Robert Young, who, as the title suggests, wrote a very literal translation of the original Greek texts.  It may seem a little confusing in certain areas, and I have changed the ‘thee’ and ‘thy’ to ‘you’ and ‘your’ to make it a little more palatable.

“And again he entered into Capernaum after some days, and it was heard that he is in the house, and immediately many were gathered together, so that there was no more room, not even at the door, and he was speaking to them the word.  And they come to him, bringing a paralytic, carried by four.  And not being able to come near to him because of the multitude, they uncovered the roof where he was, and,having broken it up, they let down the couch on which the paralytic was lying.  And Jesus having seen their faith, said to the paralytic, “Child, your sins have been forgiven.” 

And there were certain scribes there sitting, and reasoning in their hearts, ‘Why does this one in this manner speak evil words?  Who is able to forgive sins except one –God?‘  And immediately Jesus, having known in his spirit that they reason in themselves, said to them, “Why these things reason you in your hearts?  Which is easier to say to the paralytic: the sins have been forgiven or to say, rise, and take up your couch and walk?  And that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on the earth to forgive sins,” (he said to the paralytic) “I say to you, rise, and take up your couch, and go away to your house.”  And he rose immediately, and having taken up the couch, he went out before all, so that all were astonished and do glorify God, saying: “Never in this manner did we see.'”

This translation may be a little difficult to understand because the grammar isn’t what we’re used to reading, but did you catch some of the cool things that are happening in this passage?  Yes, the miracle is cool (my east coast friend would say ‘wicked-awesome’), but I think there’s something cooler than that – did you notice how ambiguous the story was concerning the characters within it?  The only person identified by name is Jesus, but everyone else is unnamed and ungendered!

If you’ve ever heard this story before, think back on it and about the characters.  Had you always assumed the four who brought in the paralytic were male? Had you always imagined that the people who were listening to Jesus speak were primarily Caucasian?  Had you taken for granted that the scribes were men? Had you expected the paralytic to be an older man?  What ideas about the characters did you have, either when we read the text or that you already had in your mind?

What I love about this passage from Mark is the total ambiguity of the text.  When we look at the Gospel of Mark, it should be noted that we don’t have a clear understanding of who wrote the text.  The early church designated this as the Gospel of Mark, but within the text itself we have no name attached to who wrote it.  The name ‘Marcus’ was one of the most popular names in the Greek world at the time this work was written which leaves the doors wide open for authorship.  Even within the Bible itself, some scholars have said there are at least three different men named Mark.  While it could be said that the work is anonymous, we can safely say that it was written by a “Christian teacher who writes not as a charismatic individual but as a member of the community.”[1]  Who wrote these words?  A woman? An African?  A middle-eastern male?  Does this give us room to find ourselves in the story?

As we move into the passage itself, we can easily take up a variety of characters with whom we most relate.  Do you relate to the ones carrying the paralytic, or to the one being carried?  Do you envision yourself as one of the people in the crowd, and were you inside or outside of the house?  Were you one of the scribes, questioning whether or not Jesus had authority to say these words?  Were you the author of the Gospel of Mark,recording what was going on as you saw it happening?

Do you see the beauty of this passage when we insert ourselves into the text?  We are no longer bystanders reading some ancient text which has been passed down from age to age – no, we are now participants in the Word of God!  We are part of the story – we are part of God’s story!

If I’m to be perfectly honest with you, I have to admit that yes, the Bible was by-and-large translated by white men, who were more than likely attempting to maintain a patriarchal viewpoint.  But we don’t have to read it that way!  Instead, we should be reading it and experiencing it through our eyes – because that’s the way God desires us to listen and understand.  I should read it through my poor, white, male eyes.  You should read it through your powerful female eyes. You should read it through your queer eyes.  You should read it through your Hispanic eyes.

And we shouldn’t stop at our own vision and our own mindset.  What if we were to experience this passage through the eyes of someone else?  What if you were to read it as your co-worker? As your nanny?  As your mechanic?  As your mother?  As your neighbor?  How does this passage change for us when we look at it as someone else?

This passage from Mark is for us, it’s about us – it’s our story.  We are the paralytic needing God’s healing touch to our illnesses.  We are one of the four carrying those we care about to God. We are the crowd, witnessing God’s Word in this world.  We are the scribes, doubting in our hearts Jesus’ words.  We are the author, sharing what we see God doing in our world.

As we go out from this place, let us remember that this book – the Bible – is a book for all of us.  It is our story, our heritage, our witness to God’s promises. Let us find ways to see how we fit into this story and where God desires us to be within it.  May we see this book as our book.

much love. sheth.


[1] M. Eugene Boring, Mark: A Commentary (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2012), 20.

ξηρῶν – Dried Up

This bible passage from John 5 has been on my mind lately:

2 Now in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate there is a pool, called in Hebrew Beth-zatha, which has five porticoes. 3 In these lay many invalids—blind, lame, and paralyzed. 5 One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. 6 When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be made well?” 7 The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me.” 8 Jesus said to him, “Stand up, take your mat and walk.” 9 At once the man was made well, and he took up his mat and began to walk. (John 5:2-9, NRSV)

In verse 3, the translators chose to use the word ‘paralyzed’ for ξηρῶν (xeron). I find this word choice interesting because the Greek ξηρῶν is primarily used to describe something that is dried up, i.e. grass, trees, land, etc. Why did the translators go with ‘paralyzed’ in this instance? Granted, bodily limbs that are ‘dried up’ may be paralyzed, but still…could the author have been up to something else?

 

I wonder if the author of John was pointing toward people who were ‘dried up’ in life. Did Jesus see people who were indeed blind and lame, but also those who were exhausted from living? Were there people in his vision who were worn out and tired; ones who had tried and tried, but still had come up empty, resigned to laying by this pool in the hope of a miracle? Was this man at the pool, wanting of being healed from his ἀσθένεια – his lack of strength, his illness, his dried-upness?

I’ve had moments of my own life when I’ve been ξηρῶν – dried up. I’ve had stretches when I’ve been in deserts of my life and all that was within me had slowly dried out, withered up, and I was left with nothing but dust. I’ve had times when it was all I could do to get out of bed, let alone function as if nothing was wrong. Depression and life’s circumstances have beaten me down more than once to the point that I’ve been dried up. I’ve been where this man is…perhaps you have, too.

What does it mean to us if, in this passage, Jesus is reaching out to someone who was dried out like some of us are? While Jesus dealt with many physical illnesses, we don’t see many moments when he handled people’s emotional illnesses. What does it mean to witness Jesus not only healing the blind and the lame, but those who are dried up emotionally and spiritually?

It gives me hope that God sees my dried out moments of life. It gives me confidence that God can heal my infirmities even if they aren’t visible. It gives me a promise that God won’t look past me as my life lingers in these moments of dryness.

I pray that God continues to heal this world, and I will rest in the knowledge that our Creator can reach into even the driest of places of our lives and bring waters of life and restoration.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Communication Breakdown.

My Brain-and-Mouth connection doesn’t always work right.  Usually Mouth gets scared:

Brain: Okay Mouth…let’s say this: “I don’t feel like that’s a good idea for you, Bill!”
Mouth: Something is coming from Brain, but I can’t quite make it out.  Something about what Bill is about to do…I think I’m supposed to warn him not to do this, but I’m not sure.  I’m not going to say anything and see what happens…
Me: …

Sometimes, though, Mouth decides it’s best to go off script:

Brain: Okay Mouth…let’s say this: “I don’t feel like that’s a good idea for you, Bill!”
Mouth: That won’t get the point across, Brain.  We’re going to say this…
Me: “Bill, that’s stupid.  This is stupid.  You’re stupid.”

While I can try to blame my communication breakdowns on this faulty connection, the truth is that sometimes I just say the wrong things.  I don’t try to say the wrong things, but somehow they just come out.  What I’m thinking isn’t always expressed very well.  Sometimes I’m guilty of poor communication.

Recently I got into a heated discussion with my girlfriend over a benign topic.  She asked my opinion on her creation of a Facebook group and who should be invited to join.  She said one thing.  I heard something else.  I replied with a different thing.  She heard something else.  And that was it – we were arguing.  And then both of us stopped the discussion by refusing to talk about it, “Ugh…whatever.”

 

This small communication breakdown became a huge source of tension for us and our relationship.  And here’s what was stupid about our argument: we were actually talking about the same thing.  We both completely agreed with one another, but we weren’t able to communicate it well enough for the other to understand, so we sat in bitterly-angry silence.

On this day, the “Tuesday next after the first Monday in the month of November,” millions across the nation are going to vote on a myriad of issues and candidates.  While the past few months (and years) have been filled with screaming matches, accusations, angry silences, and many an “Ugh…whatever”, I can’t help but wonder how much of this has been caused by a lack of good communication.  I wonder how many people have heard one thing but perceived it as something else.  I wonder how many have said something but didn’t mean it that way.  I wonder whether we really disagree this much, or we just don’t communicate well enough.  Are we really this divided, or are we just not communicating well?  [I fully acknowledge that some politicians – on both sides – have said some pretty crazy things that make me ashamed and discouraged.  This is not poor communication; it is poor judgement, poor morals, and poor ethics]

In all the books and seminars on relationships I’ve read and attended, the one thing that is always mentioned as being key to successful relationships (romantic or platonic) is good communication.  This small thing that we rarely think about is huge!  How much different would my life be if I were a better communicator?  How much better would the world be if we were able to communicate well AND listen well?  How much closer would we be to the Kingdom of God if we were able to speak more effectively?

My friends, may we have a fully functioning Brain-and-Mouth connection.  May we all work towards better communication, and God, may we be more compassionate and forgiving when we all fail at this.

much love. sheth.

 

P.S. – here’s a great article on these breakdowns and how we can prevent them

Truth: Re-Formation.

In the fall of 1517, Martin Luther had some issues with The Church and wrote to his bishop – he was sure to include with his letter a copy of his now-famous 95 Theses.  Luther’s dissertation protested against the Catholic church and clergy selling plenary indulgences and began a movement to try Luther for heresy which eventually ended in his excommunication from the church.

Last year, many churches and organizations celebrated the 500th anniversary of this Reformation; on my own campus we had a celebration with academic speeches and a fair where we could experience the Reformation in all its glory.  Each year there is a dedicated ‘Reformation Sunday’ that many mainline protestant churches celebrate year after year which falls on the last Sunday of October.

Being on a seminary campus, the word ‘reformation’ is used rather frequently, especially in the fall when the church history course is being taught.  While the subject matter causes intentional dialogue (and some heated debates), it eventually goes to the wayside as new topics and ideas are piled on our plates.

This Reformation thing intrigues me on a personal level because when I stop to think about it, how often do I re-form myself?  While it’s good to maintain a certain presence and to be comfortable with who I am, is who I am fully who I can be?  How often do I take a good, hard look at myself and acknowledge the things that are not good in my life, and how often do I change or remove them?  If I’m honest with myself, I’d have to admit that I don’t re-form myself as much as I should.

I don’t like change – once I find something I’m comfortable with, I’ll stick with it, even if it’s not the best for me.  Reform is uncomfortable.

I don’t know how to change – even when I recognize something in my life that needs changing, I usually don’t know where to begin.  Reform is daunting.

I don’t want to change – some of the things about me that need re-form are things I really like about myself.  Reform is challenging.

I don’t want to admit that I need to change – it’s tough work emotionally and spiritually to say there are things about me that need changed.  Reform is agonizing.

Martin Luther knew the importance of reform – he knew that the church needed reformation, but he also knew that people needed reformation: “…we are not yet what we shall be, but we are going toward it; the process is not yet finished, but it is going on; this is not the end, but it is the road…”  Reformation of the self is not working to change what is good in our selves, instead, it is to improve on what is there, and to change/remove what is bad in our selves.

This re-forming of our self is hard work, but it is worthy work.  We’re meant to be so much more than who we are and we’re meant to live an exemplary life.  We’re called to be the people God desires us to be, and to get there requires constant reformation.  May God work in us to begin our own re-formation: may we recognize what needs to change in our own lives and may we embrace those changes.

much love. sheth.

Truth: A Lone.

As I was growing up in the 1980’s and 90’s both of my parents held down jobs to raise our family in the unsteady economy.  My mom often worked a normal eight to five job in an office while my dad, a self-employed contractor, had a varying schedule and could be gone for eight hours a day or weeks at a time.  Because of my parents’ work schedules, more often than not my brother and I would arrive to an empty house and had to fend for ourselves with the television as our supervisor.

The six channels we could pull in via the antenna provided my brother and I with more than enough entertainment.  We would watch re-runs of Knight Rider, Magnum P.I., The Greatest American Hero, The Incredible Hulk, and Highway to Heaven.  The main characters were individuals going through life alone while fighting evil corporations, reuniting families, and making a small difference in the world.

As an introvert, I admire these individuals for being the lonesome drifters that they were.  Being alone is attractive to me because I have no one to answer to, I have no one depending on me, I have no one to disappoint me and I won’t disappoint anyone else.  I can go at my own pace, do what I want, and not answer to anyone.  As I grew up, I suppose I took these lessons I saw to heart, and while I didn’t drift too often, I was good at the lonesome part.  I tended to keep to myself and live life alone.

There are times when being alone can become lonely, and there have been more than a few times in my life when I have needed friends or, at the very least, an extra pair of hands to help me.  I needed friends when I was battling depression, when my grandma passed away, and on more than one lonely Friday night.  I needed people when I was leading twenty-two middle and high school students on a youth retreat and when I was discerning my call to seminary.  While it’s one thing to be an introvert, it’s another thing to try to be some ill-conceived lonesome drifter.

While a person can do many things alone, it’s not always the best road to take, and even my T.V. heroes had sidekicks.  Despite my childish thinking, those lonesome drifters always had someone they could lean on, depend on, and they knew that they were not completely alone.   That’s the lesson I should have taken from my hours of viewing: we can’t do things alone and do them well.

 

I need others.  It’s difficult for me to admit this, but it’s the truth.  I need people to help me with life.  I need people to keep me accountable.  I need people to encourage me.  I need people to challenge me.   Without people around me to prod me on I become still and stagnant, and I begin to deteriorate.  I need people to do life with me and help me become the best me I can be.

We need one another, and there’s no way to make it in this world.  I hope and pray that we all can find our sidekicks, our compadres – the Mark Gordon to our Jonathan Smith.  May God open our eyes, clear our minds, and make room in our hearts for others to join us on this life’s journey.  And may we look for others to join with and make this journey a little less lonesome.

much love. sheth.

Truth: We’re Both Right.

My Facebook friend list is a crazy mix of people that I love.  There are the politically conservative and religiously liberal, there are libertarians, a few anarchists, a hippie or two, a few yoga instructors and plenty of cowboys.  There’s some who love their kids, some who treat their pets as kids, and some who don’t like kids at all.  There’s retirees, teens who have yet to start working, a few unemployed, some who stay at home while their partners work, and a lot who have a regular job…or two…or three.  There are Baptists, Presbyterians, Lutherans, Catholics, Methodists, Non-Denoms, Atheists, Pentecostals, and Agnostics.  When I get on Facebook I have the opportunity to see a veritable cross-section of America.

When something ‘big’ happens in the world (terrorists, politics, sports, church) I am blessed to see all sides of the story – those who are for it and against it; those rooting for their home team while cursing the away team; those standing with and those opposing against.  I see arguments that are fact-based, faith-based, emotionally-based, and the occasional pot-stirrer who just wants to make everyone upset.

I’ve often wondered what it would be like if my Facebook friends ended up in the same room together because it’s such a varied list of people, but my wondering often turns into anxiety because I don’t know if it would be such a great idea.  This side opposes that side; that group hates this group; this person is holding a 20 year-old grudge against that person; I’m right and you’re all wrong.

And they all talk a big game on Facebook – ‘I’d show those damn snowflakes what real oppression is’; ‘If I see him again, I’m going to punch him in the face’; ‘Those people have no idea what they’re doing to me and my family.’  If they all got together in a ballroom at the Hilton, I’m afraid the niceties would end and all hell would break loose in about 38 seconds.

I think we’re all pretty angry with each other.  We’re angry for both valid and invalid reasons.  We’re angry because the other isn’t of the same mindset as we are.  We’re angry because we’re losing things that are important to us.  We’re angry because we’ve missed out on things for so long.  We’re angry because others are suffering, others are winning, others are inflicting harm.  We’re angry because we’re seeing a few lines of text on the screen and assuming the rest of the story.

Five years ago I don’t think I’d have been this reluctant to bring all these people together – not because my list of friends has changed, but because my friends have changed (as have I).  There was a time when we could disagree online and in person, but still treat one another with respect and graciousness.

I think we’ve blurred the lines between online interactions and real-world interactions, sacrificing civility in the process.  We no longer listen before we speak.  We no longer discuss things.  We are no longer flexible in our politics, theologies, or standards.  We can’t not say something.  We assume, we fill in the story, we take sides before knowing the facts.  We have allowed the meaning of ‘fact’ to be redefined.  We have drawn our battle lines, made our teams, and have set our feet firmly on the ground that we believe to be right (and to hell with those who don’t agree with us).

 

I know how to fix this problem and make us all more loving, civil, and nicer to one another.  It’s fixed by doing it.  We need to recognize that each one of us is important, each one of us is valid, and we are together on this planet.  Truthfully, we know this and we know how to do this.  We all have it in us to be better to one another, to be more loving to one another, to be nicer to one another.  There’s no magic formula, no three-step process, no seminar that needs to be attended before we can do it.  We know how to be better than we are – we need to act on our knowledge.

The fighting, arguing, and yelling will only make the rifts between us grow wider and deeper.  Being uncivil because they’re being uncivil will only make it worse.  By all means, disagree with one another!  Just don’t be an ass in the process.  Hold on to your beliefs, but don’t be afraid to let go of them if you need to.  Keep an open mind, but make sure you filter what’s going into it.  Understand others.  Empathize with them.  Think before you speak or type.  Get off social media and have actual discussions with people.  Have conversations with people you disagree with face-to-face.  Be kind.  Be civil.  Be nice.  Be loving.  Be vulnerable.  Be the other.

May we understand who they are, who we are, and that we are all in this thing together.  May we converse more, love more, and understand more.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Memories.

There’s this nifty little function on Facebook called ‘Memories’ – I can click on that and look at all the past things I’ve posted on Facebook on that given date (how old do I sound in this sentence?).  I like this because I can look back and see all the good things that have happened in my life: concerts, going on dates, international trips, meeting important or influential people, or hanging out with friends.  I can see past observations I’ve made, quotes I may have liked at the time, or how I felt about this or that political issue.  Sometimes, though, things come up that I don’t want to be reminded of: financial struggles, losses of employment, broken relationships, family hardships, dumb quotes, the starts of arguments…all the bad things that I don’t care to think about.

When I was a child, I knew that when I died I would have to account for my sins, but I wasn’t sure how God and I would review those sins.  Would it be a book – a pictorial sin-biography?  Would God just start rattling off my misdeeds and shortcomings and I would have to answer for each one?  My creative little mind came up with the idea that God would project them on a screen – a retrospective film of my life, starring me.  [And because I tend to make matters worse in my mind, I assumed everyone would be watching…and I mean EVERYONE, because we’d all be there in one place on the day of judgement]

I’d ask my Sunday School teachers about the consistency of God’s memory – was everything remembered…was there ever a lapse in memory…how big or small did a sin need to be for it to be remembered?  I mean, God remembered Noah after the flood and God remembered about Israel time and time again…God has a good memory!  Why wouldn’t God remember when I took that piece of candy, or when I told my mom I wasn’t at the park, or when I kept the dime meant for the offering plate?  I asked all the questions because I was worried about my sins and that God’s memory would prevent me from getting through those pearly gates.

Certainly God remembers, but it’s not in the same way that we remember, or the way Facebook remembers.  God doesn’t hold on to those memories and lord them over us; God doesn’t waive our mistakes in our faces; God doesn’t drop them in our minds to make us feel bad.  God has forgiven us of our mistakes the moment we confess them.  God has wiped them from the Divine memory as if they weren’t even there.

The truth is, the memories of my past sins are my memories, and I think they linger in my brain for a few reasons.  They’re there because I haven’t forgiven myself of my sins, even though God has; I can’t seem to let go of this or that and I beat myself up with the memory.  These are things I continually have to work on and ask God to help me forgive myself.

But the ‘sin memories’ are also there to remind me of the past – like Facebook – and to point me to the consequences of my mistakes.  They give me a base line for my future actions and they guide me in my decision making.

Most importantly, I think they’re also there to remind me of God’s grace and love: Hey, Sheth, remember that time you did X? And remember when God forgave you for that?  Well, God can certainly forgive you for this, too.  These memories keep me balanced, in a way – they make sure I stay on trail, and when I waiver and falter I know where the trail is located and how to get back.

May we forgive ourselves as God has forgiven us!  May the memories of our pasts not come back to haunt us!  And may our memories give us direction in life, guiding us along life’s paths!

much love. sheth.

Truth: Assault.

I’ve been watching and listening to the news concerning the progress of the Brett Kavanaugh hearings and all the ‘stuff’ surrounding it, and it’s caused me to think about some ‘stuff’ in my own life. Hearing Christine Blasey Ford state that she’s been sexually assaulted (and other men’s actions – from Washington D.C. powers, to Hollywood elites, to the countless men in church leadership) has given me reason enough to stop and take a long, hard look at my own life and the way I treat(ed) women.

I’ve been asking myself a few questions about the whole ordeal: if I were placed in Kavanaugh’s shoes, would any controversial issues from my past come out? This question terrifies me (and probably you) because no one likes to have their lives scrutinized; no one likes to face tough questions regarding what they may or may not have done in the past.

But this question also terrifies me because I am not sure who or what issues would come up. While I’ve maintained control of my faculties and have been aware of what I have said and done in my life, I’m not overly confident that I’ve always lived my life above reproach.

I’ll confess that in my life I’ve cat-called, I’ve told jokes in poor taste, I’ve leered – I’m willing to admit to these assaults. But I wonder if I’ve done other things that have made women feel uncomfortable. Have I inadvertently touched someone inappropriately? Have I gone too far with a woman when she didn’t want to? Did I use my position of power to get something from a woman? Have I caused a woman to feel uncomfortable around me? While I can’t explicitly recall specific moments when I have done these things, did I ever do any of them without my realizing?

This is what terrifies me the most – my not knowing if I’ve done harm to women. I want people – both women and men – to feel safe and comfortable around me, but have I messed up at some point in my life? Have I ever done something I shouldn’t have?

Personally, I’m learning from these allegations of assault, misconduct, and rape, and that is a good thing. I’m learning that I need to be more active in choosing my words and actions – not out of fear that it might come back to bite me in the ass – but because what I may think is acceptable may not be so for the other. I’m learning that what was once accepted may not be accepted now, and I must continually work to change my behaviors. I’m learning that I must be proactive in changing my behaviors and societal norms instead of waiting for women to come out and say that something is wrong.

I’m learning that women don’t always feel safe around men and that I need to work to change this – not by telling women they can be safe, but by helping other men to change their behaviors. I need to be with other men and guide them in living a good life that respects, honors, and upholds women as God’s beloved.

I’m learning what these words ‘above reproach’ truly mean: it’s not that I need to live a life void of sin (I can’t do that), but that I need to live a life that sets a high standard for myself. I need to be a good model for others in the church (and outside of it) – I need to be someone others can emulate. I’m learning that I need to live a life where I have no doubt about the answer to the question “have I done something I shouldn’t have?”

May my Creator guide me in being a good, decent, uplifting man. May God give women the strength to stand up to the wrongs committed against them. May all men have ears to hear these women’s voices and work to change before women have to speak. And may we all live in peace, in love, and in respect for one another.

much love. sheth.